Max changed color, and glanced apprehensively at his father, as if
fearing some suspicion in the unexpected question.

"No, sir," he answered, after a moment's hesitation. "I called at his
chambers; but they told me he had gone away for the holidays and had
left no address. All letters were to be kept for him till his return."

Both question and answer had been uttered very softly, but Max saw, by
the look on Doreen's face, as she glanced over from the other side of
the table, that she guessed what they were talking about, if she had not
heard their words.

"Aren't you going to have any breakfast, Max?" asked she, as she came
round to him. "We've kept everything about for you, and we want the
table."

"Well, you can have it," said he, jumping up, quickly, and making for
the door. "I don't want any breakfast this morning."

"Nonsense. You will not be allowed to leave the room until you have had
some," retorted his sister, as she sprang at him and attempted to pinion
his arms. "We allow no ill-temper on Christmas Eve, especially as we've
got a surprise for you--a beautiful, real surprise. Guess who is coming
this morning to stay till New Year!"

Queenie had come up by this time, and the two girls between them brought
their brother back to the table, where the younger sister began to pour
out his coffee.

But Max refused to show the slightest interest in the coming guest, and